


I Wanna Be (One Night Stand)

by seaunicorn



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Celebrity Crush AU, Clexa, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-04-10 01:58:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4372769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seaunicorn/pseuds/seaunicorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lexa is the daughter of a big movie producer and her celebrity crush, Clarke Griffin, just got a part in one of his films.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Lexa can never stand these parties.

Nearly every weekend, her dad throws networking parties and her house is flooded with people she doesn’t know.  Loud, thumping music in one room, painful small talk and networking in the next.  The only thing she enjoyed was the food.  Damned if her dad didn’t know how to pick a good caterer.

“Lex, I have no idea why you hate these parties so much.”  Her best friend Anya bounds into the room and latches onto her arm.  “Andrew Garfield just asked for my phone number.  _Andrew Garfield_!”

“Did you give it to him?”

Anya scoffs and shake her head.  “You know I don’t date British men.”

“You know, I still don’t understand that rule,” Lexa comments.

“I’m just saying,” Anya sighs, “your dad is the CEO Trigedakru Productions.  There are celebrities at your _house_ every other weekend.  Enjoy it!”

“That’s why I invite you, so you can enjoy it for me.”

“And that’s why I love you.”  Lexa gasps in pretend offense.  “I mean, that’s one of the _many reasons_ I love you,” Anya corrects.  She grabs two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter and hands one off to Lexa.  “One of these days you’re going to enjoy one of these parties.”

“I doubt it, but I appreciate the sentiment,” Lexa sighs and takes a sip of champagne.

“Well not with that attitude,” Anya points out.  “Obviously it’s gonna suck if you just sit in the corner brooding.  You gotta get out, talk to someone interesting, get a hot girl’s phone number!”

“And how exactly is that going to help me?” Lexa asks.

“You haven’t had a girlfriend since—“

“I know when,” Lexa cuts her off sharply.

For a moment, nothing is heard between the two except for the clinking of glasses and the sounds of pleasant chatter in the background, but that couldn’t cover up the tension.

“I’m sorry,” Anya says after a moment.  “I didn’t realize it was still hard for you.”

“No, no I’m sorry,” Lexa sighs.  “I’m fine, I swear.  Maybe you’re right.  Maybe I should…put myself out there.”

Anya notices something over Lexa’s shoulder and her face lights up.  “I am so glad you said that.”

“What?” Lexa asks tentatively.  “I know that face.  You’re plotting something.  What are you plotting?”

“Nothing, nothing!” Anya replies, sounding anything but innocent.  “But, out of curiosity, you would say that your one and only celebrity crush is television actress Clarke Griffin, correct?”

“Yes…”

“And you have described her as, I quote, having the ‘bluey-est blue eyes you want to drown in them,’ correct?”

“I was drunk at the time, but yes that is correct,” Lexa admits.  “I don’t see what this has to do with—“

Without another word, Anya grabs Lexa’s shoulders and spins her around to view the one and only Clarke Griffin across the room, bright blue eyes piercing through Lexa’s soul from thirty feet away.

“Oh, no.” Lexa swats Anya’s hands away and backs up into another room.

“What are you talking about?” Anya follows her into the kitchen where the only other people with them are the wait staff.  They pay no mind to Lexa and Anya, or their conversation.  “You just said I was right!”

“Yeah, but… it’s _Clarke Griffin_!” Lexa lowers her voice to a harsh whisper.  “I can’t just _ask_ Clarke Griffin for her _phone number_.”

“No of course not,” Anya says bluntly.  “You have to introduce yourself, make small talk, discuss common interests, the weather, flirt a little, and _then_ ask for her phone number!  Come on, Lexa!  Why are you so hesitant?  She’s not just number one on your celebrity sex list, she _is_ your celebrity sex list!”

“Yeah but that’s for like, fantasies, not real life!”

“Why not?” Anya asks.  “She’s right out there.  You are sexy and intelligent and can charm any woman I bet.”

“You are being ridiculous,” Lexa says.  “I’m walking away now.”

“But Lexa!”

Lexa turns around and marches right out the kitchen door.

Or she _tries_ to march out the kitchen door and away from her friend.  She is stopped when she runs into someone else walking through the door in the opposite direction at the same time.

Someone else whose dress she spills the rest of her glass of champagne on.

Someone else whose name is Clarke Griffin.

“Oh my god,” Lexa gapes.  She just spilled her champagne on Clarke Griffin.  Of all the people at this party.  “I am _so_ sorry, I’m such a klutz.”

“Oh no, it’s totally fine,” Clarke says and Lexa thinks her voice sounds like angels singing.  “I ran into you too, you were just the one with a glass to spill.  It could’ve easily been me spilling on you.”

“Yeah but I—“

“Hey,” Clarke cuts her off, “Don’t worry about it.  I probably shouldn’t have come back here anyway, I was just hoping to find more food.”

Lexa lets herself smile a little, still nervous, but warming up to Clarke’s presence.

“So what are you doing back here by yourself anyway?” Clarke asks.

“I’m not by myself, I’m with…” Lexa turns around only to find that Anya had vanished.  She curses under her breath.

“Your imaginary friend?” Clarke jokes.

“No, I was, um, with my friend but I guess she left when I was distracted.”

“Hey, relax, I was kidding.”  Clarke offers her a small smile, and Lexa visibly relaxes.  “What had you so distracted?” she asks with a smile that was almost too innocent.

And there Lexa is, distracted again by the softest smile and the _bluey-est blue eyes_ that all she can do is stand there gaping like an idiot before she can say anything.  “I, um—my drink—your dress,” she manages to stutter out of her mouth.  “Sorry, again.  I could, um, get you a change of clothes?”

Clarke giggles, but when she notices Lexa isn’t smiling she stops.  “Oh, were you serious?  I just assumed, I mean, who brings a change of clothes to these parties, right?”

“I live here,” Lexa says.  “Come with me.”  Lexa considers for a moment grabbing Clarke’s arm before turning around and walking away, but she just hopes that Clarke will follow her.  She leaves the kitchen through the back exit and she hears the door swing back open a few seconds after her, so she knows Clarke is following.

“Wait, you _live_ here?” Clarke asks, trailing after Lexa.

Lexa shrugs.  “It’s my dad’s party, so…”

Clarke freezes in the middle of the hallway, and Lexa doesn’t realize it until she is halfway up the stairs.  She has to turn around and go back down the stairs to find Clarke Griffin gaping at her.

 _Clarke Griffin_.

“Your _dad_?!” Clarke asks, baffled.  “Your _dad_ is Gustus Woods?”

Lexa blushes and nods.  This was exactly why she never told people who her dad was, but she figures this is as good a time as any to introduce herself.  “Yeah, um, I’m Lexa.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be so shocked, I just didn’t know he had a daughter,” Clarke muses, shaking her head.  _A beautiful daughter_ , she added internally.

Lexa shrugs.  “He doesn’t like to advertise it.”

Clarke, noticing that Lexa was starting to get uncomfortable tries to change the subject.  “I’m Clarke, by the way,” she says, sticking out her hand to shake Lexa’s.  “Clarke Griffin.”

“I know.”  The words slip out before Lexa can stop them.  _No! Lexa you don’t want to seem like a creepy stalker!_  She scolds herself internally.

“You know?” Clarke asks, a smug grin capturing her face.  She retracts her hand that Lexa never took.  “Are you a fan?”

“No!” Lexa jumps to her own defense all too quickly, and regrets it when Clarke’s smile falls.  “No, I just—I’ve seen your show, _Sky People_ , um, it’s good.”

“Thanks,” Clarke says.  Her smile comes back, not as smug as last time, but more sincere.

Silence falls between them, while Lexa internally scolds herself for already making a fool of herself in front of _Clarke Griffin_.  She looks at Clarke and nods awkwardly, for some reason unable to smile.  That was when Lexa remembered the champagne stained dress Clarke still wore.  Her eyes widen.

“Your dress!” she exclaims.  “We should get you out of that.”  Lexa turns around and continues to lead Clarke upstairs again.

“Hey, at least buy me dinner first,” Clarke jokes.  She doesn’t catch the way Lexa’s cheeks turn bright red as she follows.

The rest of the trip to Lexa’s room is in silence.  Lexa is tense, even after she opens her bedroom door and shows Clarke inside.  Her bedroom is decent sized and she has a walk in closet, which she immediately takes Clarke into.

“Here,” she says, “you can pick out whatever you’d like.”

Clarke smiles at her.  “Thank you.”

“Bathroom is the other door, when you’re done.”

Clarke doesn’t take long looking through Lexa’s closet and seemingly grabbed the first appropriate outfit she could find.  She takes the dress into the bathroom but doesn’t close the door.

Lexa watches when Clarke lifts her own dress over her head and immediately slaps her hand over her face to cover her eyes when she is faced with _Clarke Griffin’s_ topless back.

 _She has a nice back_ , Lexa muses.

Lexa spins around, to relieve herself of the temptation to steal a glance.

Lexa clears her throat.  “So,” she begins, “what brings you to one of my father’s parties?  It’s usually the same crowd every week.”

“I just got a part in one of his movies,” Clarke calls from the bathroom.  Lexa’s heart stops.  If Clarke was going to be in one of her father’s films, then this was a very, _very_ bad idea.  “He thought it would be a good idea if I came to mingle.”  She slips into the dress quickly then walks out of the bathroom.  She sits on Lexa’s bed and looks around the room while Lexa finally turns to face her once again.  She doesn’t admit that the dress looks much better on Clarke.  “I thought you might have known, you are his daughter.”

“He doesn’t like to talk about work,” Lexa replies quickly.

Another silence falls between them.  Clarke twiddles her thumbs, waiting for Lexa to say something, but that never happens.  She stands up.  “Should we get back to the party?” Clarke asks.

“You go,” Lexa says, grasping for an out.  “I think I’ll stay here for a bit.”  If Lexa spends anymore time with Clarke, bad things will happen.  Bad things will happen and her father will find out, because he always does.

Clarke tilts her head toward Lexa, concern etched on her face.  “You don’t like these parties much do you?”

Finally, Lexa meets Clarke’s gaze.  She shrugs.  “They’re not really my scene.”

Clarke laughs.  “Same.”

Silence falls between them once again, but this time it’s less awkward.  And once again, Clarke is the one to break it.

“Do you wanna get out of here?”

Lexa scoffs.  “What?  The party just started.”

“I know, but neither of us really wants to be here,” Clarke says.  “We could do something more fun.  I’m curious as to what _your scene_ is.”

Lexa mulled over her options.  She could stay in her room, miserable, and regretting a missed opportunity with Clarke Griffin.  She could go back down to the party, miserable, but with Clarke Griffin.  Or she could join Clarke and ditch the party.  Who knows what they would end up doing?  They had the whole night to themselves.  It was definitely the most dangerous option.

Lexa makes the mistake of looking at Clarke, who is giving her puppy eyes, and she feels her resolve break.

“Fine,” Lexa says, finally giving in.  She lets herself smile at Clarke, for only the second time tonight.  “But we’ll go out the back, we don’t want to draw any attention.”

“Whatever you say, boss.”

Lexa was glad that they didn’t run into anybody on the way out and were able to slip into the night unnoticed.

“So tell me Lexa,” Clarke says, giggling as they run away from the big house, “what is your _scene_?”

The answer is bowling.

Lexa takes Clarke Griffin _bowling_.

It was a stupid idea, really.  Who takes a girl that they’re trying to impress (not that Lexa is trying to impress her) out bowling?  But Clarke did ask what her scene is and, well, this was it.  Lexa is really good at bowling.

Lexa’s father signed her up for a lot of activities when she was younger to keep her busy, and bowling league was one of those things.  She also found that it’s something she can do to clear her mind when she is stressed, so she kept up the practice.

“Bowling?” Clarke asks as they walk inside.  “You sure?”

The two of them look out of place in their fancy party dresses, while everyone else in the bowling alley is dressed for casual fun.  Lexa doesn’t care though because Clarke looks so beautiful in her dress.

“Absolutely,” Lexa says with confidence.

Clarke’s sheepish smile twists into a cocky smirk.  “Prepare to get your butt kicked.”

Clarke had either overestimated her own bowling ability or underestimated Lexa’s, but by the end of the night she is eating those words after she loses to Lexa three games in a row.

Clarke was trying though, and it was cute.  She would scrunch up her face when she was concentrating.  Eventually she had to take off her jacket, and Lexa found herself increasingly distracted by the toned muscles of Clarke’s arms.

“Hooooly shit,” Clarke gasps, as Lexa ends the game with a turkey.  “How do you do that?”

“Lots of practice,” Lexa replies with a wink.

“Well, maybe you could teach me sometime?” Clarke said, with a lilt that makes Lexa think she might be—no, there is no way Clarke Griffin is flirting with her.  “Although I might get distracted, you’re pretty sexy when you concentrate.

Yep. Definitely flirting.

Lexa couldn’t help the blush that turns her cheeks bright red, and Clarke smirks.  Before Lexa could even begin to formulate a reply in her head, two teenage girls approach Clarke and tap her on the shoulder.

“Um, excuse me?  Clarke Griffin?” one of them says.  “I’m sorry to bother you, but we’re such huge fans.  Could we get a picture?”

Clarke turns to them and grins.  “Absolutely!”

Lexa watches Clarke speak to her fans and she notices three things.  First, Clarke is a people person.  She knows exactly what to say to someone to make them feel good about themselves and appreciated, which is exactly what she does with these girls.  Second, Clarke is genuine.  It is clear from the interaction that she cares about her fans and loves speaking to them, and that bit of knowledge made Lexa smile.  And finally, despite these first two observations, Clarke seems to be utterly distracted by Lexa the entire time.

Throughout the encounter, Clarke keeps glancing up at Lexa, blushing when their eyes meet, and even misses a few things that her fans say because she was looking at Lexa.

In Clarke’s defense, Lexa is distracted too.  She doesn’t even hear one of the girls asking her to take a picture for them until the question is repeated a second time.

“What?” Lexa asks, snapping her gaze toward the girl.

“Could you take a picture for us?” the girl says again, holding out her phone.

“Oh, yes, of course,” Lexa says.  She grabs the phone and snaps a quick picture for the girls, who promptly thank Clarke and walk away, leaving Clarke to enjoy the rest of her night.

After they are out of earshot, Clarke takes a step toward Lexa.  “If we’re done bowling, I’d like to choose the next activity,” Clarke says.  She leans in close so Lexa can feel Clarke’s breath on her lips.  “If that’s ok?”

Lexa still can’t form words, so she simply nods.

Clarke had driven them to the bowling alley, so they hop back in her car and Clarke drives away.

“Any chance you’ll tell me where we’re going?” Lexa asks after a few minutes.

“You’ll see,” Clarke replies.

She pulls into the parking lot of a drug store.

“Uhh, Clarke?”

“Quick pit stop, you can stay here,” Clarke explains.  “I’ll be two minutes.”

Lexa wants to go with her, but Clarke insists on her staying in the car.  And it’s barely over two minutes later when Clarke comes back, toting nothing but a box of wine.

“Boxed wine?” Lexa asks, with a raised eyebrow.

“Judge all you want,” Clarke says, “I still have the palate of a broke college student.”  Lexa chuckles as Clarke gets back in the car.  “Now we’re ready for a party.”

As it turns out, the destination in mind is Clarke’s apartment.  Lexa’s breath catches in her throat and her heart thrums faster.

“I hope I’m not being too forward,” Clarke says, only half joking.  “I was thinking, Netflix and wine.”

Lexa smiles.  “Sounds perfect.”

That’s how Lexa ends up on Clarke Griffin’s sofa, drinking boxed wine, and watching _The Aristocats_.

“I’m a sucker for Disney movies about animals,” was Clarke’s explanation.

Lexa is barely paying attention to the movie.  After a few glasses, her slightly inebriated self is hyper aware of the feeling of Clarke’s arm brushing her own, the way Clarke’s hair smells, the way her lips curve so perfectly over her glass…

 _How did I even end up here?_   Lexa thinks.  Anya would be proud, that’s for sure.

And she won’t admit it but the boxed wine isn’t so bad.

Clarke is slightly more drunk than Lexa and has stopped watching the movie entirely.  She watches Lexa intently, and Lexa can feel Clarke’s gaze on her, but she keeps her eyes glued to the TV.

“Truth or dare,” Clarke says.

“What?” Lexa finally pulls her gaze away from the screen to find Clarke with a mischievous grin.  Lexa wishes she could kiss it right off her face.

“Truth, or dare,” Clarke repeats.

“That is a game for middle school kids to play at sleepovers,” Lexa says.  “Not two adults.”

“Fine, what would you rather do?”

“Watch a movie like you wanted?” Lexa suggests.

Clarke shrugs.  “I guess I changed my mind,” she says.  Lexa barely registers how Clarke’s voice dropped down to a sultry whisper.  She definitely doesn’t notice Clarke lick her lips and move towards her.

Before Lexa has a moment to react, Clarke straddles her lap and leans in, stopping when their lips are only inches apart.

Lexa is caught like a deer in headlights.  She can feel Clarke’s breath, smell her hair, see every shade of blue in her eyes.  “Clarke…”  She tries to continue, to tell her to stop, but her voice gets caught in her throat with Clarke so close and leaning in.

When Lexa doesn’t move, Clarke places a soft kiss on her jaw.  She feels Lexa sigh beneath her and takes that as a sign to continue.  She kisses along Lexa’s jaw, but when she moves down to Lexa’s neck, Lexa pulls back, only a little.

“Clarke, wait,” she says.

“Have I been reading this wrong?” Clarke asks, suddenly embarrassed.

“No!” Lexa reassures her.  “No, not at all.  I just… we can’t.”

“Why not?”

Lexa sighs.  She wasn’t sure how to explain it to Clarke simply.  “You’re working for my dad now,” she says.

“So?”

“So,” Lexa thinks for a moment.  “So, my dad likes to keep me as far away from his work as possible.”

Clarke waits for Lexa to elaborate, but soon realizes that she’s not going to.  “Oh.”  She moves away from Lexa and sits next to her on the couch, still letting their shoulders brush.  She hesitates a moment, and then asks, “But you want to, right?”

Lexa turns her head to see Clarke looking at her intently.  She should say no, put any of this to a stop, but with Clarke’s eyes on her like that only one word can fall from her mouth.

“Yes,” Lexa sighs.  Honestly, it was all she had been thinking about for the past few hours, but she wasn’t going to let Clarke know that.

“What if we make sure your dad doesn’t find out?” Clarke asks.

“He always finds out,” Lexa says flatly.  “Especially with someone like you, relationships are hard to keep private.”

Clarke doesn’t say anything for a moment.  Doesn’t look at her.  Lexa knows that this is for the best, she can’t ruin another person because of her feelings.

“It doesn’t have to be that,” Clarke says finally.  “We’re here now, why deny ourselves?  Because you are honestly the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

Lexa looks at her questioningly.  “Clarke, what are you saying?”

“One night,” Clarke says.  “Just sex, nothing else.”

Lexa should say no.  She _really_ should say no.  But Lexa is also a little drunk and Clarke is looking at her with those eyes and instead she finds herself saying, “Okay.”

That one word is all it takes for Clarke to close the space between them.  Clarke kisses her and even though Lexa may have imagined this countless times, this is real and it’s more than she had ever hoped for.  This isn’t the TV star who’s kissing her.  It isn’t the Clarke Griffin that makes teenage boys swoon and teenage girls question their sexuality.  This isn’t the Clarke Griffin who looks stunning at every awards show, premiere, or event that she attends.  This isn’t the Clarke Griffin who has a publicist that censors every other sentence she says so she can come off as sweet and endearing.

This is just _Clarke_.  Clarke, who is terrible at bowling and knows how to make Lexa laugh and curses so much Lexa is sure her publicist would cringe.

Clarke, who nips at Lexa’s bottom lip, and Lexa gasps.

Clarke’s lips are so soft and her tongue tastes of wine and Lexa can’t get enough, so she grips the back of Clarke’s neck to pull her closer.

Clarke’s hands find their way up Lexa’s shirt and Lexa’s hands find their way into Clarke’s hair.

Lexa thinks that this is a bad idea, this is _such_ a bad idea.  But then Clarke sucks on her neck and that thought is the furthest thing from her mind.  All she can think is that she needs skin and there are far too many clothes in between them right now.

They end up on Clarke’s bed, clothes scattered haphazardly around the apartment.  Clarke has her mouth around Lexa’s nipple and a hand slipping under Lexa’s waistband and between her legs.

 _One night_ , Clarke had said.  Lexa can give herself this one night.

When she comes undone, Lexa knows that one night could never be enough.


	2. Chapter 2

_Two Months Later_

Lexa has had a long night of studying.  She is a law student, after all, and if she wants to make a name for herself and have a job lined up, she has to study.  But that doesn’t make it any easier to drag herself out of bed and to class after only an hour of sleep that night, so she stops for a coffee on the way to school.

Lexa’s usual coffee shop is normally empty except for a few regulars, but this morning, it’s packed and the line almost goes out the door.  She’s too tired to even notice the paparazzi lingering across the street, snapping pictures.

Lexa groans in frustration when she steps inside and sees the line.  She shoots a quick text to Anya.   _When did Java Hut become popular? The line is ridiculous!_  She fiddles with her phone and checks her email as the line ever so slowly trudges forward.

Finally, Lexa is at the front.  She places her order – black coffee with a couple extra shots of espresso – and as soon as she turns to walk to the side, someone runs SMACK into her, spilling warm coffee all over her outfit.

“Hey! Watch where you’re—Clarke?”

Lexa finds herself face to face with the woman she hasn’t seen in two months and feels a blush creep up on her cheeks.  Those piercing blue eyes really don’t get any less intense.  The last time Lexa saw her, Clarke was naked and asleep, while Lexa hurriedly dressed herself and ran out.

“Oh my god, Lexa, I am so sorry!”  Clarke looks redder than Lexa feels.  “Here, let me—shit!”

“Clarke what are you doing here?” Lexa asks, glaring at her.

“Getting coffee, is that a crime?” Clarke counters.

Lexa lets out a soft sigh. “No, it’s not.”  She looks up and her tired eyes meet Clarke’s and suddenly everything is okay again.  “I’m sorry, I was just… caught off guard is all.”

Clarke shakes her head. “I’m sorry, I’m the one who poured her coffee all over you.”

“Payback?” Lexa asks with a small smile.

“I guess so.”  Clarke chuckles.  “But now it’s my turn to help you.”

“Clarke, it’s fine, I—“

“No, I’ve got some extra clothes in the car, it’s no trouble.”

“Lexa?”

Lexa turns toward the sound of her name.  The barista stares at her, holding her cup of coffee.  Lexa thanks him and grabs it.  Clarke takes her free hand and drags her out the door.

It’s platonic, the way Clarke holds her hand, and it’s only so Lexa will follow her.  But Lexa’s hand burns where Clarke’s skin touches hers; it feels hotter than the coffee in her other hand.

They can hear the cameras flashing from across the street, but are soon out of sight of the paparazzi in the small parking lot behind the coffee shop.  “Sorry about that,” Clarke says, looking back to make sure no paparazzi were following them.  “They’ve gotten worse since I’ve been back from Spain.”

“Right, you were filming,” Lexa pretends to remember.  She knew of course.  She thought about the six thousand miles between them almost every day.  “How was that?”

Clarke shrugs.  “Kind of a blur, to be honest.  It’s my first big movie so it was really overwhelming.  In a good way, though.”

Lexa smiles, happy for her. “That’s good.”

“Here we are.”  Clarke unlocks her car and opens the back door. She pulls out a duffel bag from the backseat and digs through it until she pulls out a clean shirt. “Here.”  Clarke hands the shirt to Lexa and lets her hand linger as their fingers brush.

“Thank you.”  Lexa holds the shirt tightly in her hands and looks down at it, fiddling with it a little.  Lexa feels tense at the silence that falls between them.  There’s so much she wants to say but she knows she can’t. Clarke, on the other hand, doesn’t give a shit.

“This is weird, right?” Clarke asks.

Lexa pretends to act surprised at her comment.  “Not at all. Why would you say that?”

Clarke shakes her head with a bitter smile and takes a step forward.  Lexa subconsciously steps back and her back is against Clarke’s car.  “We both know how I feel about you.”  She reaches out and takes Lexa’s hand, intertwining their fingers.

Lexa refuses to meet her eyes.  “Clarke, there’s cameras right around the corner…”

“I don’t care.”

Lexa falters, and she meets Clarke’s gaze, letting those sharp blue eyes pierce into her skin once again.  Her breath catches in her throat with how close they are.  Lexa could count Clarke’s eyelashes if she wanted to.  She swallows thickly, but keeps their eyes locked as Clarke’s eyes fall down to Lexa’s lips.

Clarke surges forward and kisses Lexa, hard.  Lexa feels Clarke’s body press up against her own, pinning her against the car.  Lexa feels herself falling again, remembering all the feelings that she spent the last two months trying to forget.  For a moment, she lets herself be swept away by Clarke.  She lets herself be kissed like she deserves to be kissed.

Lexa drapes her hands lightly around Clarke’s neck and tugs her closer, and as Clarke’s tongue demands entrance, she grants it.  She lets Clarke kiss her like they kissed that night – passionate and desperate for more.

But only for a moment.

After a moment, Lexa wrenches her eyes open and turns her head away.  Clarke head falls forward with Lexa’s mouth no longer accessible. She sighs.  Her hands that rest at Lexa’s hips slowly drag up until they’re on her cheeks.  Clarke turns Lexa back toward her, but instead of kissing her again, she touches their foreheads together.

“You know,” Clarke whispers, “I thought about you every day in Spain.  About that night.  About waking up the next morning in an empty bed.  It didn’t make sense…”  She’s so close Lexa can feel Clarke’s breath on her own lips as she talks.  “Tell me you didn’t think about me.”

Lexa takes a deep breath.  “I did.”                                                                                        

“Then what’s the problem?” Clarke asks.  Lexa is so close to saying fuck it and bringing their lips together again.  But she doesn’t.

Lexa turns away and shuffles out of Clarke’s arms.  “I have to go.”  She walks away, leaving Clarke alone in the parking lot.  “Thanks for the shirt.”

Lexa misses class for the first time that day.

Instead of going to class she goes straight to Anya’s office.

Anya is in the middle of reading a manuscript when Lexa barges in without even knocking.  She looks up calmly, as if Lexa barging into her office is a common occurrence.  Which it is, it just usually doesn’t happen at this time.

“I thought you had class?” Anya asks.

“Clarke kissed me,” Lexa says.

After a moment, Anya sighs and goes back to reading her manuscript.  “I know.  She also had sex with you.  You told me all this like two months ago.”

“No, just now.”

Anya’s eyes go wide as she sets the papers down on her desk and looks up at Lexa.  “What?”

“I-I ran into her at the coffee shop-- and she kissed me and I didn’t-- I couldn’t-- I can’t—“

“Whoa, Lexa, breathe.” Anya gets up and puts her hands on Lexa’s upper arms, holding her still.  She takes a deep breath and Lexa mimics her.  Her cheeks feel wet.  When had she started crying?

“This can’t happen again,” Lexa mumbles.                    

Anya wraps her arms around Lexa and hugs her tightly.  “I know, hon.”  She rubs Lexa’s back comfortingly.  Lexa sniffles and wipes away her tears.  She doesn’t cry.  “Why don’t you just talk to Clarke?  Tell her what happened,” Anya suggests.

“I can’t do that.”

“Then talk to Costia.”

Lexa pulls back and looks at Anya grimly.  “She doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“You don’t know that! You never even tried to reach out to her.  If she doesn’t want to talk to you, it’s because you waited so long.”

Lexa says nothing. She keeps her eyes focused on the ground.

“Just think about it, ok?” Anya asks.  “Please. I hate seeing you like this.”

Lexa picks up her bag from where it had been dropped on the floor and walks out of the office without acknowledging Anya.  When she gets to the door, she hesitates.  She looks over her shoulder and says softly, “I’ll think about it.”

Lexa runs into Clarke again three days later.

She doesn’t run into her so much as Clarke shows up at her house.

“What are you doing here?” Clarke asks.

“I live here?” Lexa raises an eyebrow.  “What are _you_ doing here?”

“Sorry, I—I’ll come back later.”  Clarke glares at Lexa and turns around to leave.

“Clarke, wait!”  Lexa catches Clarke by the shoulder before she can get too far.  “I didn’t mean it like that.  I just meant, why are you here.  Obviously you’re here for a reason.”

“Your dad left something for me to pick up,” Clarke says.  “He said the maid could get it for me.”

Lexa sighs and looks around. She holds open the door a little wider. “Veronica just left.  I’ll try to find it.”  When Clarke doesn’t move forward, Lexa takes her hand and gives a little tug.  “Come in.”

Clarke hesitantly steps inside the house.  “Thanks,” she mutters.  She gives Lexa a smile, and Lexa feels herself return it.

“Did my dad say what it is he left for you?” Lexa asks as she walks through the living room and into the kitchen.

“Revised script pages,” Clarke tells her.  “We’ve got a few more scenes to film at the studio here, and since Sky People is shooting again I haven’t had time to grab them during working hours.”

“They’re probably up in his office.”  Lexa leads Clarke through the kitchen and up the stairs.   They climb up the stairs in silence.  Clarke looks at the bare walls and polished floors of the house with curiosity.  She finds it odd that there aren’t any family pictures anywhere, but she shrugs it off.

“Where is Gustus anyway?” Clarke asks.  “It’s pretty late.”

“He works pretty late,” Lexa replies simply.

As they reach the top of the stairs, Lexa turns down the hall in the same direction as her bedroom and opens the door across from it.  Gustus’ office is simple, only consisting of a desk in the middle and a bookshelf on the side.  The books on the shelf are covered in dust, confirming Clarke’s suspicion that it’s just there for show and he doesn’t actually read any of the books.  The desk is cluttered with papers on top of papers covering the keyboard and mouse of the desktop computer.

Lexa sits behind the desk and ruffles through the papers.  “What does it look like?” Lexa asks.

“Like script pages,” Clarke says.  Lexa stares at her blankly.  “You don’t know what script pages look like?  Your dad is a producer!”

“I’m a law student, Clarke, not film.”  It’s only the soft smirk on Lexa’s lips that tells Clarke she’s teasing.  Clarke shakes her head and chuckles to herself. “Oh, this must be it.”  Lexa pulls a manila envelope out of the stack with ‘C. Griffin’ printed on the front.  She hands it to Clarke who opens it and peers inside.

“Yep, that’s it.” Clarke stands there for a moment, looking at Lexa.  Lexa once again does not meet Clarke’s eyes, she refuses to be sucked in by that enchanting gaze once again.  “What do you want from me, Lexa?” Clarke asks.

And Lexa looks up and Clarke’s eyes catch her own and she’s lost.  She wishes she could stay like this for ever, that she could drown in the oceans in Clarke’s eyes.  “It’s complicated,” she sighs.

“You know, I had never been to Java Hut until two weeks ago,” Clarke admits.  “Gustus mentioned once that you like that place, and so as soon as I got back I started going there.  I was hoping to run into you.  Not literally, but I guess that’s what happened.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Lexa asks.

“Because I want you to know.”  Clarke moves toward Lexa, who still sits in the chair at her father’s desk.  “I wanted to see you.  I didn’t mean to kiss you that day, I just… I couldn’t help it.  I’m sorry.”

Lexa shakes her head as she gazes at Clarke with adoration.  “Don’t apologize.”  She hasn’t looked away from Clarke, even for a second.

“See, that’s where you confuse me!” Clarke exasperates.  “You act like you’re not interested and then you act like- like that.”

Lexa gets up and pushes past Clarke.  “This was a bad idea.”

“Hey!  We were talking.”  Clarke follows Lexa into the hallway, but Lexa ignores her.  “Hey!  Lexa!” She grabs Lexa’s arm and pushes her back against the door, closing it behind them.  “Talk to me.”

Lexa doesn’t know what comes over her, but she surges forward and presses her lips against Clarke’s, grasping the back of Clarke’s head and pulling her closer.  This is the kind of thing drunk Lexa would do, _not_ sober Lexa.  Clarke drops the envelope she was holding in shock but kisses back almost instantly.

Clarke kisses her back and everything is right again, like the planets have aligned and world peace has been achieved and everyone is satisfied.  Lexa, though, Lexa kisses Clarke hungrily, like she hasn’t had anything to eat in days and only Clarke can give her her fill.  Clarke gives and Lexa oh so greedily takes everything she can from this kiss.

As Clarke’s hands dip under Lexa’s shirt, scratching against her hot skin, Lexa pushes her leg in between Clarke’s and presses against her.  Clarke gasps into Lexa’s mouth and it’s the most beautiful sound she’s ever heard.

Lexa’s shirt is halfway off her torso, and Clarke’s pants are unzipped with Lexa’s hand making its way inside when they hear the front door open and close loudly.  They both freeze.

“Lexa?” Gustus calls from downstairs.

Lexa quickly pulls her hand out of Clarke’s pants and tugs her shirt back down.  “Fuck,” she whispers.  “You have to leave, now!”  Clarke sees the panic in Lexa’s eyes and nods.  She straightens out her clothes and fixes her hair.  Lexa bends down to pick up the envelope off the floor.  “Here.”

“Thanks,” Clarke replies.

They make their way downstairs and find Gustus in the kitchen.  “Hey, dad!” Lexa says, a little too excited.  “I was just helping Clarke find what you left for her.”

Gustus nods.  “Good, I was just going to ask if she got those new pages.”

Clarke puts a charming smile on her face.  “I got them! Thanks again, Gustus.”

“See you soon, Clarke.”

Clarke nods to him, and then turns to Lexa.  There’s an awkward moment where neither of them knows what to say, until Clarke shakes Lexa’s hand.  “Goodbye Lexa,” she says.  “Thanks for the help.”

“Bye,” is all that Lexa is able to stutter out.  She watches Clarke walk out of the kitchen, leaving her alone with her father, the tension between the two almost palpable.

Gustus waits until he hears the front door close behind Clarke until he asks.  “What was that, Lexa?”

Lexa looks to her father, trying to hide the fear in her eyes.  “W-what do you mean?”

“You tell me,” he says simply.  “My assistant sent me the photos from Monday.”

“Dad, that was nothing!” Lexa tries to defend herself.  “She spilled coffee on me, she was just helping me out.”

“That’s enough, Lexa!” Gustus almost shouts.  Lexa feels small and helpless, like she always does when her father speaks to her. Like she’s a child trapped in an adult’s body.  “You need to stop this before it becomes something more.  People will make a scandal out of anything these days…  I don’t want you ruining another one of my stars.  You stay away from Clarke Griffin, do you understand me?”

Lexa sighs.  “I know.”

The problem is it’s already become something more, but her father doesn’t need to know that.  It’s spiraled out of Lexa’s control, and she has no idea how to take hold of it again.  She’s not sure if she ever had a hold on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, but I hope it was worth it! If you didn't notice, I made this a three part fic instead of a two part fic; I realized there was a lot I still needed to include, and I didn't think it would all fit in only one more chapter. I'm on winter break right now so I'm going to try to finish this within the next week or so! For updates or questions you can go to my tumblr, tatianathevampireslayer. Anyway, thanks for reading and let me know your thoughts!! :)


	3. Chapter 3

It takes Lexa another three weeks to contact Costia.

Within those three weeks, she runs into Clarke no less than seven times.  It’s like the universe hates her or something.  She sees her everywhere – at home, on the street, at the coffee shop, getting groceries…  Each time she spots Clarke out and about, she immediately trains her gaze on her feet in the hopes that Clarke won’t spot her or approach her.  Clarke doesn’t.

It’s only one unlucky time that Lexa’s not fast enough and Clarke catches her eye.  Clarke’s eyes light up and a smile brightens her face the moment she sees Lexa, as if Lexa hasn’t been ignoring her for weeks.  Lexa tries to smile, but she can’t.  She also can’t look away.  Clarke holds her there, frozen with a bundle of bananas in her hands until someone walks between them with a screaming child and the trance is broken.

Lexa hastily shoves the bananas in her cart and walks off.

She calls Costia later that night.

Lexa is not sure if she’s ever been more afraid in her life than she is in that moment when she listens to the phone ring and waits for Costia to answer.

She answers on the fifth ring.

“Hello?”

Lexa can’t breathe. It’s been months since she’s heard that voice.

“Costia?” she breathes.

“Lex, is that you?”

Lexa nods, but remembers that they’re on the phone and Costia can’t actually see her.  “Yes,” she says.

“I didn’t think I’d hear from you again,” Costia mutters.

“I know,” Lexa says.  She lays down on her bed and sighs deeply.  “I’m so sorry.”

“Lexa, don’t do that.”

“No, let me finish,” Lexa takes another deep breath.  “I’m so sorry, Costia.  You have no idea how sorry I am, and it’s all my fault—“

“Don’t say that!” Costia says.  “It’s not your fault your dad is a jackass.”

“But he would never have fired you if it wasn’t for me,” Lexa frowns.  “You heard him, I was corrupting you.”

“You weren’t corrupting me, we fell in love.”

Lexa takes a moment at those words.  They fell in love.  They _were_ in love.  And they were happy.  Until Gustus figured out what was going on.  Lexa doesn’t know what to say.

“Still,” she chokes out, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Costia says adamantly.  “I don’t regret any of it.”

“Neither do I.”

They sit in silence on the line for a moment, only listening to the sound of each other’s breaths.

“So you don’t hate me?” Lexa asks eventually.

Costia almost laughs.  “Of course not!  I could never hate you.”

Lexa finally lets herself relax, and her lips turn up into a soft smile.  “Ok,” she says.  “Thanks.  That’s… that’s more than I could’ve hoped for.”

She practically hears Costia roll her eyes from the other end of the line.  “There you go, being all self-deprecating again.  You’ve gotta stop that, Lex.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Lexa shakes her head, but she still has a smile on her face.  She hesitates before asking, “How have you been?”

“I’ve been good, actually,” Costia says.  “Since Gustus blacklisted me from the Hollywood film scene, I moved to New York.  I’m going to be on Broadway!”

“That’s amazing, Costia!”  Lexa can hardly contain her excitement.  She wishes she had called Costia sooner; it would have been a huge weight lifted from her shoulders.  “I’m so happy for you.”

“Thanks,” Costia says.  “But what about you?  How have these last seven months treated you?  Acing your classes?”

“It’s been tough without you, but I’ve been doing better, especially recently,” Lexa says, deciding to be honest.  “Anya has been amazing.  She’s actually the one who convinced me to call you.”

“Thank her for me, will you?” Costia says.

“I will.”

Lexa stays on the phone with Costia for another half an hour.  They talk about everything they’ve missed from each other’s lives since they last saw each other.  Lexa finds out that Costia has a girlfriend, and she doesn’t feel that pang of jealousy that she thought she might.  So she decides to tell Costia about Clarke.

“You clearly have a type,” Costia says with a laugh.  “The forbidden romance with an actress… I will admit, it does sound exciting.”

“I suppose I do have a type,” Lexa agrees with a soft chuckle.  “She probably hates me now though.”

“Hey, I didn’t hate you after seven months,” Costia says, “I’m sure a couple weeks is nothing for her.”

“And there’s also my father to consider…” Lexa says.

“Screw him.  You’re twenty three years old, Lexa.  You can’t keep letting your father take control of your life.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t have that figured out when it was you.”

“Stop apologizing, Lexa.  How many times do I have to tell you?” Costia asks.  “We both had some growing up to do.”

“And you’re happy,” Lexa says.  “That’s all that ever mattered.  And that’s what I was afraid I ruined.”

“You didn’t, and that’s what matters now.”  Lexa feels her eyes brimming with tears at Costia’s words.  “Listen, Lexa, I have an early call time tomorrow, so I have to go.”

“Thank you, Costia,” Lexa says.  “For not hating me, and for talking to me.  I needed this.”

“Thanks for calling,” Costia says.  “Now, go get your girl.”

And then, as if the universe is tormenting her for its own pleasure, Lexa stops running into Clarke.  No more run ins at the supermarket or passing bys at the coffee shop.  She considers breaking into her father’s office for Clarke Griffin’s contact information until she realizes, no, stalking is not what a sane person would do.

Instead, Lexa goes to Clarke’s apartment complex at 11 on a Friday night after she’s had a little too much to drink where her head feels fuzzy and maybe her impulse control is a little low but she still knows exactly what she’s doing when she bangs on Clarke’s door.

Maybe it’s because of the alcohol but it seems to take a really long time for anyone to answer the door, and Lexa’s about to knock again but the door opens and she sees Clarke, perfect Clarke, on the other side, a confused Clarke with bed hair looks at her.

“Shit, did I wake you up?” Lexa asks.  “I’m so sorry.”

“Lexa?” Clarke blinks.  “What are you doing here?”                                   

“I’m sorry, I-I wanted to see you.”                                    

“Are you drunk?” Clarke asks.

“Only a little,” Lexa replies sheepishly.

Clarke opens the door a little wider.  “Come in, I’ll get you some food.”

“That sounds _amazing_ ,” Lexa practically drools at the thought of food.  “You are amazing, Clarke.”

Clarke points Lexa to the couch, where _Finding Nemo_ is paused on her tv.  “You can play it if you want, I’ve seen it before.”

Lexa hits play, but she doesn’t watch the movie.  She watches Clarke as she moves about the kitchen, pulling ingredients from her pantry and the fridge.  Lexa watches Clarke’s toned arms as she reaches up into the cupboard, and her eyes trail up Clarke’s legs when she notices Clarke is only wearing boxer shorts and an oversize t-shirt.  Lexa drools more at the thought of Clarke than at the thought of food.

Ten minutes later, Clarke sits down next to Lexa on the couch and places a grilled cheese sandwich and a glass of water on the coffee table.  “Bon appetit,” she says.

“Thanks,” Lexa mutters before devouring the sandwich and chugging the glass of water in probably record time.

“That was hot,” Clarke jokes.  Lexa smiles as she wipes crumbs from her mouth.

“Shut up,” Lexa grumbles, before swallowing her last bite of grilled cheese.

“So I have to ask,” Clarke starts, “why are you here?”

Lexa feels herself sober up pretty quickly.  It might have been the sandwich.  It was probably Clarke.  She shrugs.  “I was home alone tonight.  I had some wine.  Never a good combination.  And I just, I really wanted to see you.”

“Yeah but why did you want to see me?” Clarke asks.

“Because I like you,” Lexa says simply, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“But you said before—“

“Forget what I said before,” Lexa says, shaking her head.  “Please.”  She leans in and kisses Clarke softly.  When Clarke doesn’t respond, Lexa pulls away and looks at her curiously.

“How drunk are you?” Clarke asks.

“Pretty sober by now,” Lexa replies.  And before she knows it, Clarke is kissing her again and she feels whole.  Clarke’s fingers thread into her messy hair and she leans forward until Lexa falls back on the couch and Clarke is on top of her.

If Lexa was sober before, she’s now drunk again on Clarke’s kisses and the way Clarke’s fingers are still in her hair and the way Clarke’s hips push down into her own.  Lexa threads her arms around Clarke’s waist and rests them on her back until she tugs the shirt up a little to feel hot skin beneath her fingers.  Clarke’s skin feels so refreshing and she wants more so Lexa tugs at the shirt and, with a little help from Clarke, it comes off.

Lexa is pleasantly surprised to find that Clarke isn’t wearing a bra, but before she can take advantage of this, Clarke husks into her ear, “You’re wearing too many clothes,” and begins to undress Lexa.

“Should we move to the b-bed?” Lexa gasps against Clarke’s lips.  She shudders when Clarke unclasps her bra and she feels a hand on her breast.

Clarke shakes her head and kisses her way down Lexa’s body.  “Too far,” she says from between Lexa’s legs.

Lexa almost comes undone at the sight of Clarke between her legs, looking at her with dark, lustful eyes as she tugs off Lexa’s underwear.

They make it to the bed eventually, after at least two orgasms.  Each.

They fall asleep in the early hours of the morning, naked and exhausted, but curled up in each other’s arms.

Lexa wakes up a few hours later, arms encircling Clarke’s waist, and Clarke’s face in her neck.  She listens to Clarke’s soft snores and sees how beautiful the early morning sunlight looks dancing across her skin.  She falls back asleep with a smile on her face.

When Lexa wakes up for good, she’s alone in bed, but the smell of bacon draws her out of the room.  She finds an old shirt of Clarke’s on the floor next to the bed and throws it on before heading out.

“Good morning, sleepy head,” Clarke says.  She’s in the kitchen, at the stove, wearing a fluffy purple robe.  “Breakfast is almost ready.”  Lexa grunts in response.  “Someone’s grumpy in the mornings.”  Clarke laughs.  “I tried to wake you up earlier and you almost punched me.”

“I don’t even remember that,” Lexa yawns.  She sits at the table and Clarke places a plate in front of her.  Chocolate chip pancakes and bacon.  “Looks amazing.”

They eat their breakfast in relative silence and Lexa would admit that those were the best goddamn pancakes she’s had in her life.  Which she said to Clarke multiple times.

When they finish, Clarke gathers their plates and puts them in the sink.  She stays standing there for a moment.  “We should talk.”

Lexa gulps.  “I know,” she says.  She wanted them to talk, after all.  She just got a little… distracted last night.

“What changed your mind?” Clarke asks as she sits down next to Lexa at the table again.

“It wasn’t my mind that needed changing,” Lexa replies.  “I knew I wanted this for a while.”

“Then what is it?” Clarke asks.

“It—it’s a lot.”

Clarke takes her hand and strokes her knuckles.  Lexa feels reinvigorated by the touch.  “You can tell me,” Clarke says.

Lexa takes a deep breath.  “About a year ago, I was involved with a woman named Costia Winters and for a few months, it was great.  But she also worked for my dad.  She was relatively new to LA and it was a huge deal for her to get a part in one of his movies—she was chalked up to be the next big star, but when Gustus found out about our relationship, he wasn’t happy.  He fired her and blacklisted her name everywhere so she couldn’t get another job.  He’s still pissed at me for corrupting his star.”

Lexa stares at Clarke, waiting for a response, for something.  “Costia Winters,” she mutters.  “I remember hearing about her.  I even met her once.  She was nice.”

“She was,” Lexa agrees.

“I always wondered what happened to her.”

Clarke says nothing else for a moment, so Lexa continues.  “That’s why I’ve been avoiding you,” Lexa says finally.  “I didn’t want to ruin someone else’s career because I can’t control my heart.”

“That’s not your fault, Lexa,” Clarke says.

Lexa laughs softly.  “That’s what Costia said.”

“It’s true!” Clarke says.  “And I appreciate you trying to protect me, but I can take care of myself.  I’m not afraid of your father.  And the whole world already knows I’m bisexual!”

“Are you mad at me?” Lexa asks nervously.                                                                                            

“Of course not,” Clarke replies.  “You’re just in a really shitty situation.”  She sighs.  “Is this the part where you tell me this can’t happen again?”

“No,” Lexa shakes her head.  “I’m done letting my father dictate my life.  I just wanted to let you know the whole situation.  So you can make a decision.”

“A decision?”                                                                            

“Of whether or not you still want to do this.”

Lexa knows she’s asking a lot of Clarke, asking if she still wants to be with her now that she knows what could happen and after everything that Lexa’s done.  She expects an outright “No way!” or, maybe she would just need some time to think about it, and at best she’d get a “Not yet.”

What she doesn’t expect is for Clarke to close the distance between them and kiss her.  She still tastes like chocolate and syrup from their breakfast and Lexa opens her mouth wanting to savor the taste of Clarke.  Clarke pulls back after just a moment.  “Like I said, I’m not afraid of your father.”  She kisses her again, softer this time.  “I just want you.”

Now Lexa is the one who initiates the kiss.  She grabs Clarke by the cheeks and pulls her in close and kisses her hard until they’re both seeing stars and gasping for air.  She kisses her until their lips are swollen and their tongues are tired until she has everything committed to memory: Clarke’s taste, the way her tongue feels as it slides against her own, the sound of her sighing into Lexa’s mouth, all of it.

“By the way,” Clarke says between kisses, “You look really cute in my shirt.”

Lexa grabs her by the hand and drags her back to the bedroom, where she kisses her again, and again, and again.

It’s another couple of hours before they leave the bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there it is! I tried to fit a resolution and explanation into this last chapter so I hope it doesn't feel too rushed. I don't think I'll continue this story because I like where it ends, but I have a couple other Clexa fics in the works so keep an eye out for that! In the meantime, follow me on tumblr: tatianathevampireslayer


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